Harry Potter and the Final DuelYear 6
by American101
Summary: Hello Professor Ape!""What did you call me?""Huh...? What? Hi professor Ape!""STOP IT!""Stop what professor Ape?""Stupid American...too much bleach in her head."
1. Default Chapter

Harry Potter and the Final Duel

Chapter 1: Owls Bringing O.W.L.S.

Harry was awoken by the thunder-like crashing of pots and pans. Apparently, Uncle Vernon was attempting to cook breakfast, and from the sound of it failing pathetically. Harry groped around for his glasses, finally locating them behind the potion's report he had been working on the night before.

His world slid into focus as he put on his glasses and turned on the light. He looked around his room for Hedwig, and noticed that she had still not returned from her night's hunting.

"Boy! Get your lazy arse down here and cook breakfast!" Yelled Uncle Vernon from the kitchen.

Harry sighed and pulled on a pair of over sized jeans and an equally large T-shirt, both hand-me-downs from his incredibly obese cousin. Not bothering with shoes, he went down stairs to help Uncle Vernon with the cooking.

Normally, Aunt Petunia would at least start breakfast and then leave him to finish the job, but she had gone on a week long trip with her book club. She had only left yesterday and Harry's world had already become a mixture of slave work and homework.

Of course, it was not as bad as it could have been. All Harry had to do to get out of something was to slyly mention Lupin, Tonks and Mad-Eye's threat. It normally got the Dursleys to leave him alone for at least a small amount of time.

"Boy, hurry up!" Uncle Vernon's voice came up the stairs laced with suppressed anger and annoyance.

"Coming!" Harry shouted back. He tried to limit his use of the Mad-Eye's threat to once a day, as to not anger the Dursleys past the breaking point.

Harry got to the kitchen to find it a complete wreck, a complete wreck he would have to clean up later. Suppressing his anger, he walked over to the stove and started to make some scrambled eggs.

As he made breakfast, his mind began to wander back to the place that he truly considered his home: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yes, Harry Potter was indeed a wizard.

Only a few hours short of 16, his once thin and lanky body now had developed some muscle tone, as well as gaining a few inches. Unfortunately, puberty had done nothing to help his hair, which still refused to be anything other than unruly.

His green eyes dulled when he remembered that there were still 2 months separating him from Hogwarts. A scar in the shape of a lightening bolt decorated his forehead, although at the moment his unruly hair hid it. He blew a strand of his unruly hair out of his face revealing his scar momentarily, only to have his hair fall stubbornly back to the exact same place it had been.

He finished cooking the eggs and served it up on plates. Dudley, his cousin, shoved the food in his mouth as if he was a vacuum cleaner. Just last year, Dudley had been taken off of a diet after he made a great fuss about it, holding his breath until his face turned blue, causing him to resemble a giant blueberry. His parents, fearing he would lose too many brain cells and not be able to get into Oxford, had finally given in. Now, he ate the food as if each meal would be his last.

Harry ate his breakfast slowly, his thoughts elsewhere. He had a potions essay upstairs that he had only managed to complete half of the night before. He took his plate and fork and began to quietly walk upstairs. Uncle Vernon and Dudley were too busy talking about who-knows-what to notice him leaving. To be perfectly honest, Harry could've left the building whenever he wanted to, now that Aunt Petunia was on vacation. But he had direct orders from Dumbledore not to. Although Dumbledore seemed to be a nice old gentleman, Harry would not want to be on his bad side after witnessing the battle between him and Voldemort the year before.

Harry entered his room, intent upon finishing his dreaded potions essay as soon as possible. But Hedwig, along with three other owls, sat upon bed waiting to have their messages received and to receive a reward, namely food, for their long journeys. Harry promptly shoved his potions essay aside and went to attend to the owls.

Harry first took a professional-looking letter off of Hedwig's leg. The top of the letter was posted, "Private Information, Order of Merlin, O.W.L.S. of Harry Potter." His hands shook with nervousness as he opened the letter that contained his grades from the exams he took the year before. He opened the letter and read the results...

_The following are the official results of Harry Potter's fifth year O.W.L.S._

_(As a reminder-)_

_O: Outstanding_

_E: Exceeds Expectations_

_A: Average_

_P: Poor_

_D: Dreadful_

_Transfiguration: O_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts: O_

_Charms: E_

_Divination: P_

_Care of Magical Creatures: E_

_History of Magic: D _

_Astronomy: P_

_Potions: O_

_Any complaints or questions about these grades may be addressed to Professor Albus Dumbledore by owl. We kindly ask that all parents/guardians discuss these grades with their children before sending any howlers or complaints to teachers._

_Professor McGonagall_

_Assistant Headmistress_

The first thought that came into Harry's brain after skimming over his results was that Professor Dumbledore must have influenced the outcome of his grades dramatically. Especially the O in potions, as he had not managed to make an O on a single Potions pre-test; ever. He had, to his pleasure, done well in all his classes. Well, all the classes that he actually cared about. Although he was happy with his grades, they didn't distract him from the other owls that awaited him for very long.

Erole, the Weasleys' family owl, seemed to be ready to die from the weight of the package attached to his leg. Inside the colorfully wrapped box Erole had brought him were many other packages. He first opened a red box, which turned out to be from Ron, inside of the box were many practice snitches. The label on the package stated that they would return to the owner when whistled for. Another package contained homemade cookies and a picture of the Weasley family from Mrs. Weasley. The last package was from the twins, shockingly it contained numerous items that could be used to prank anyone and anything from their new store and a small envelope. Inside the envelope was a letter that stated:

_Harry –_

_Happy Birthday, Harry! After much nagging from my dear mother, I have decided to return to Hogwarts this year to complete my education. It's so stupid, they're making me redo the entire year even though I already completed a semester. George, the lucky jerk, gets to stay with the shop. Don't you hate him? Hey man, it'll be cool spendin' another year corrupting you and your friends. Did ya pass any of your OWLS? You couldn't have done worse than George! Prank your evil cousin!_

_Fred_

_P.S. – Be careful when you use the fireworks. We haven't worked out all of the bugs yet. But they look really cool! Have fun!_

Harry set his gifts aside, except for the cookies, which he ate with his scrambled eggs. The owl Hermione had sent was hooting at him, so he took the package off of it's leg and tore it open. Inside was a book titled Famous Seekers' Secrets. He had expected Hermione to give him a book, but he never thought she would send him one he would _want_ to read.

He pushed the book aside to open another package, which turned out to be from Lupin. Inside the small package there was at least a pound of chocolate and a picture of the Marauders. They were all sitting by the lake waving at the camera with Peter's face burnt out.

The final package had several large, odd holes that identified it to be from Hagrid. On top of the package was a small note that said:

_Harry –_

_Wantd ya ta practise yur parseltounge so ya don forget it. Hope ya like it. Happy Birthday!_

_Hagrid_

'Oh no,' Harry thought. Then he noticed the irate hissing coming from inside the box. 'He sent me a snake,' he thought. And, indeed, when Harry opened the package there was a one yard long golden snake slithering around the inside. 'Of course Hagrid wouldn't think to tell me what kind of snake it was,' he thought. Harry handed the snake his last piece of bacon left over from his breakfast and went to tend to the mess he had made opening the packages.

As he threw all of the torn up paper into the waste bin, he noticed a letter that he had not opened. Upon the letter was a wax emblem sporting the Hogwarts seal. Inside of it were numerous pages of parchment. The page on the top of the mass stated:

_Students,_

_During this year, in hopes to unite the American and European wizarding worlds, four American exchange students will be transferring into Hogwarts for the first semester. These four girls will be in the sixth year and are to be sorted directly before the first years._

_The second semester, fifth through seventh year students will be transferring to the American wizarding school, Salem School of Withcraft and Wizardry. Please be sure to have your permission slip signed by either a parent or guardian or we shall be forced to leave you at Hogwarts to attend fourth year classes for the rest of the semester._

_We are looking for parent volunteers to help chaperone the trip. We are also looking for qualified parents to take over the roles of Potions Master, Transfiguration Master, and Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher._

Harry looked to the next page, already plotting ways to forge Uncle Vernon's signature upon the awaiting permission slip. To Harry's surprise, the slip was already signed. In swirling font, the name of Albus Dumbledore decorated the line that Harry expected to find blank. With that weight off of his shoulders, Harry returned to the first page and continued reading.

_We expect that any traditions of the exchange students shall be respected. Any student found criticizing, taunting, or harassing the Americans shall not be allowed on the trip and be punished by anyway Filch sees fit. Furthermore, the Americans are not to be shunned, if their abilities are not at the same grade level as our sixth years' as the American and European education systems are not parallel. Although they may seem odd at first, I am positive that you will find that despite your differences, you are all quite similar._

_Deputy Headmistress_

_Professor Minerva McGonagall_

Harry turned to the third page of the packet which was, as he expected, the annual school supply list. As usual they were required to have robes, quills, parchment, and the other usual items. This year Harry would also be required to bring a cauldron twice as large as the one required last year, a new potions book, a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Book, and a new Transfiguration book.

It looked as if it were going to be an interesting year. Perhaps these new Americans would be able to take his mind of the rise of Voldemort and the new deaths that would most likely fill his life from now until Voldemort was finally defeated. Besides, a free trip to America sounded like a great way to get his mind off the impending war. Maybe the Americans would be able to teach him some new quidditch tricks while they were here.

A/N: Hey! This is actually a joint fic by me and three of my totally awesome friends! Yep, nothing like a common obsession to bring people together. PLEASE Review. It gives us life. This fic will be funny soon, well, as soon as those insane Americans get here. (Chapter 3). So REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay this is Saturn88, I know this is posted on my account but I forgot my E-mail and password...and so did another writer. So this is yet another writer out of our foursome's account.

So, I know this is posted twice but whatever...Chapter 2 is up too so read it!


	2. Traveling Terrors

**Chapter 2: Traveling Terrors**

Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter. But I do own this really cool shirt that I bought last weekend. And the paperclip I picked up off the floor in Algebra...FEAR THE PAPERCLIP!!!!!

"So, boy, when do you go back to that crackpot school of yours?" Uncle Vernon asked from behind the heaping plate of food. He shoved the food into his mouth as if it would disappear at any given moment. Although one might think Vernon ate quickly, compared to his son, Dudley, he was moving as fast as my Grandmother on a Sunday afternoon.

"Well, technically, the school is run by the ministry, and conducted by Professor Dumbledore. So therefore, it's not 'my' school," Harry said, somewhat annoyed with his Uncle's condescending term for his school, as he scrubbed the limited remains of his incredibly obese cousin's dinner off of his plate. After nearly two months with his Uncle and cousin, Harry was at the end of his rope. Lately he had found himself snapping more often and using Mad-Eye's threat to the point that it had lost its effect, leaving Harry with no way to escape Vernon's rage.

"You ungrateful boy, I will not tolerate back talk under the roof that _I _so graciouslyput over your head!" Vernon shouted, his face turning a darker shade of red with every word he yelled. "Get to your room! If I see your face before Friday _you_ won't see straight for a week!"

"Yes Uncle Vernon," Harry said submissively. Vernon apparently had not realized that Harry could not cook nor clean for him if he was quarantined to his room for a week. It would be an amusing week for Harry, Uncle Vernon and Dudley trying to cook and clean without any assistance. Odds are, no hired hand would stay with the sexist, short-tempered, ill-mannered jerk for more than two hours.

The black haired boy slowly walked up the stairs, purposefully dragging his feet with every step he took. Harry hoped Uncle Vernon would interpret his slow pace as depression brought on by his punishment. On the inside, Harry was skipping up the stairs singing nasty and vulgar songs about people who lacked the ability to think he had learned from Peeves. Many songs about people similar to Uncle Vernon had been written and sung during Professor Umbridge's rule as headmistress. He slammed the door to his room closed, shoving a chair under the knob. One could never be sure what insane thing a Dursley might do if it had not eaten in more than three hours.

Harry looked around the room that was to be his home for the next week. Actually, for his last week here for the remainder of the year this would be the only room he had to see. Much to his displeasure, his conscience kept drawing his eyes to the unfinished potions essay that decorated his desk. With a sigh, he pulled a quill out of his desk drawer and dipped its tip in the ink. As he placed the quill tip to the parchment, ready to create the next sentence of made up junk about whatever this essay was supposed to be about; the roar of an engine filled his ears.

He slowly pulled his wand out of the knothole on the right side of his desk; holding it by his side, he slowly crept towards the window. As he drew closer to the glass panel, a light shone through the curtains. Harry ducked down under the window and held his breath, praying it was just his imagination or that it would go away soon.

Suddenly, a tapping sound reverberated from the glass above him. He glanced up to the window above and saw a hand pressed up against the glass. Taking a deep breath, Harry held out his wand and prepared to stun the psycho who was at his window.

"Hey mate, grab your trunk and come on! Mum got permission from Dumbledore! You can stay with us for the last week of summer. Hey Harry, are you in there?" a familiar voice called through the glass barrier.

"Ron? Is that you mate?" Harry asked, excitement bubbling in his stomach. He slowly stood up and pealed back the curtains that blocked his view of his friend.

"No, it's the Easter Bunny here to bring you an egg. Of course it's me! Who else would have a flying motorcycle?" Ron asked, revving up the engine of the most likely illegal item to prove his point.

"Where the bloody hell did you get a motorcycle?" Harry questioned as he shoved his limited belongings into a large trunk. "And how are you going to carry this on the motorcycle with me on the back?"

"Oh, that's simple," said Ron speaking to Harry as if he was a five-year-old, "Just shrink the thing and put it in your pocket."

"And how do I do that?" Harry asked.

Ron took out his wand and pointed it directly at Harry's trunk. He cleared his throat and, waving his wand quickly to the right, he whispered "_Minimut._"

Nothing happened.

"Do you mean _minimus_?" Harry asked, with a wave of his wand. His trunk instantly shrunk to the size of a matchbox.

"Yeah, that'd be the one," Ron said, looking slightly embarrassed, with his face turning redder by the second. "Where's Hedwig?"

"I sent her to your house with a letter. I assume she'll meet us there," Harry said, climbing onto the oversized, roaring, flying, outdated motorcycle.

"Where did you say you got this thing, again," Harry asked as the bike sputtered as his weight was added. His confidence in the bike sunk as it plummeted two feet closer to the ground.

"Don't worry Harry, I just have to hit the right button," Ron said, eyeing the controls nervously.

"You do know what button that is, right?" Harry asked, wishing someone else was driving this contraption.

"Of course I do!" Ron said turning, un-turning and re-turning a few knobs up near the handle bars, resulting in the motorcycle jerking, jumping and spinning in the air.

Harry felt as if he might hurl at any given time if Ron did not figure out what the heck he was doing. He was seriously considering getting out his broom and flying to the Weasley's by himself. Unfortunately he didn't know how to get to the Weasley's house without Ron's directions.

Ron finally managed to hit the right button and turn the right knob in the correct order and the bike roared to life, taking off into the sky. Harry decided to be glad they had gotten started and worry about Ron's ability to land (or lack there of) later.

As they reached their coasting height and speed, Harry asked Ron once again where he got the motorcycle.

"Oh, this is Sirius's old one my dad fixed it up." Ron said casually.

"Oh," Harry said, his mood darkening with the mention of his deceased godfather.

There was a long uncomfortable silence for the following few moments before Ron quietly whispered an apology, "Sorry, I didn't think. So, did you hear about the American exchange students?'

"Yes, not much other than they exist and their coming." Harry said, glad to be on a more neutral topic.

"I got Percy to tell me some of the details. Apparently they are coming over to show that Americans and Europeans can work together in peace, but get this, they are all girls! I wonder if one's part veela…" Ron ended whimsically

"Do veelas even live in America?" Harry questioned.

"Of course, during the American Revolution many veelas went to the Americas to spite England. It's said that all Americans are at least 1/24th veela. Probably why they are all so slutty." Ron said with a mischievous grin.

"Well, isn't that wonderful Ron. Four stunningly beautiful girls from a foreign country for you to chase around, we all know that you're the ladies man for the veela. We all remember what happened last time, did you even get a single word out without stuttering?" Harry asked.

"Don't tell me you're not looking forward to four wonderfully new girls who won't even know your name?" Ron asked.

"How could anybody not have heard of Voldemort and what he did to me and my family?" Harry asked in shock.

"You know Americans, dumb as a stick and couldn't care less about our problems," Ron said nonchalantly.

"Well what about the whole going to America thing? And why aren't they all coming here?" Harry asked eager for more information.

"Well, the ministry will tell you that it's because Hogwarts isn't big enough but in reality they couldn't get more than ten volunteers and only four of them were qualified to come."

"Oh, wonderful. Look, wasn't that your house?"

"Yeah, we have been circling for a while, I'm working on figuring out the landing gears. So, we're all going to America because they're campus is bloody huge and they have about half of the wizards that Hogwarts does, they believe in home schooling over there. Ou Ou, I think I land with this button!"

The motor cycle abruptly stopped and plummeted straight towards the roof of the Weasley's house. Harry and Ron screamed for their lives, their voices making sounds that should not be possible for boys of their age. Mr. Weasley dashed out the front door, held out his wand and shouted something Harry and Ron could not hear over their shrieks of terror.

The motorcycle smoothly decreased in speed moved to the left and lightly touched down to the ground. Mrs. Weasley sprinted to the boys and enveloped them in a large hug. After kissing both of them on the forehead, she stepped back and began to scream.

"WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING RON? CHARLIE AND YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TAKE THE BROOMS IN THE AFTERNOON DO YOU REALIZE THAT YOU NEARLY DIED? TAKING THE BLOODY BIKE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BLOODY NIGHT, WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING!"

"I didn't want the muggles to see us…" Ron said in a small voice cowering behind Harry. "And besides, Charlie was busy…"

"Doing what?" Mrs. Weasley asked, both arms crossed over chest foot tapping wildly.

"Well, he met this girl last night at a club while with Bill and…uh…they…hit it off."

"HE DID WHAT? HOW DO YOU KNOW? WERE YOU WITH HIM? WHERE IS HE?" Mrs. Weasley ranted, storming off to find her two eldest sons.

Ron sighed with relief, glad that he had managed to reflect his mother's rage on someone else. Harry suddenly whispered into Ron's ear, "You do realize that your older brothers are going to kill you, right?"

"Oh, didn't think about that," Ron said paling a few shades. "We should probably go now."

A/N: We planned for alot more to happen in this chapter, but it got too long and we decided to post it now. Sorry for the massive wait. With our school and work scheduals' it's hard for us to get together and work. Our massive amount of A.D.D doesn't help much either. Well, we need to goworkon the next chapter!


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